Profile of A Hero
by Netrixie
Summary: RE-POSTED! Its after the war and Draco contemplates Harry as he sleeps. SLASH.


**Disclaimer**: It's all J.K.'s- but really, how many of us think she could have done a better job? Raise your virtual hands, please. Great, that's all of you. I knew I liked you people for a reason.

**Warning**: Sappy Draco

**Authors Note**: No Flames Please- but constructive criticism is always appreciated.

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It was dark in the room when I woke up slowly, pressing into the warmth beside me before I realized where it was coming from. For a moment, I just lay there and let the worries of today and tomorrow ebb away. After a second, I rolled over to rest on my side and watch the man beside me. He was still, settled on his back with one arm above his head and his eyelashes sealed to hide the brilliance of his eyes from the world. He was so perfect. I had to clamp my own eyes shut for a moment while I grew accustomed to his presence next to me.

I could never have imagined him here with me. It was too different, too unexpected, too… taboo. But somehow, in some way, he wanted me. I didn't understand. What had I done to deserve his love? What had I _not_ done to make him hate me? How many times had I chosen my selfish desires over what was best for him?

He sighed deeply in his sleep, and his arm dropped down from above his head as he rolled over to face me. My breath shuddered into my lungs as I tried to keep from waking him. He was perfect, the embodiment of everything that I had ever wanted.

The smooth plane of his cheek was a strong, virile arch that demanded you realize he was in the same room as you. His lips were perfectly shaped, and upturned slightly at the corners, so I knew he was dreaming of something sweetHis forehead was an unbroken plain. There were no hidden wrinkles; the strain of having to kill the Dark Lord was not evident in his features.

His scar had faded with Voldemort's death, but if I looked carefully, I could still see it. His hair, the hair that I had learned was not coarse at all, but soft, oh so soft, was as black as Voldemort's heart. But there all similarity ended.

He was love. He was the one who'd died to save us. Harry, who conquered death as I held him in my arms in that final battle, the battle that not only untangled the mess that was the Wizarding world but also the of my feelings for the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Die.

_Now, I could almost see his face smiling up at me as he sat up and said, "Hello, Draco." Suddenly filled with shock and relief, I forgot about the crowds of people surrounding us, the Malfoy Code of Conduct, and everything else as I crushed his drained body against mine, pressing his cheek against mine, holding close so that he would know that I never wanted him to do that again, that I never wanted him to be in danger again. I knew that he would be repulsed by me, by my actions, but I had to do it. It was an urge as primal as the need to breathe. _

_When he wrapped his trembling arms around my waist, I didn't know what to think. He pressed his head against my chest and said in a sigh, "It's alright, Draco. It's alright." I held him close, in silence. The people surrounding us were silent also. Even now, I couldn't possibly imagine what they were thinking._

_But I turned back to Harry, and pressed my forehead against his silently. He was mine then, even if he didn't realize it. I didn't know that he had made the same decision until later when we were finally alone. He turned to me and said "I'm never going to let you go, Draco." I'd stared at him for a moment before burying my face deep into his neck and losing myself in a scent that was entirely Harry._

He just mumbled something in his sleep. I lean closer, having learned on previous occasions that if I ask him what he said, he'll replyto my questions if I'm quiet enough. So I leaned closer and asked "What was that, Harry?" He said it again, and my heart stopped. He'd never said my name in his sleep before. I swallowed, and hoped that the good dream from earlier was about me.

I shifted so that I was leaning on my elbow above him, watching his face as he slept. The shadows from the night had not yet left the room, but I could still see him clearly. I did not need the light to know his features, they were branded into my memory from other early mornings and late nights. A few strands of hair were strewn across the his softly fluttering eyelids. I reached out to draw them away but stopped, my breath catching as I watched him in his sleep. He'd stolen my heart and only now, in the early hours of the morning was I able to admit it to myself. When I could move again, I gently brushed the hair off of his face. My breath hitched in my throat when his brilliant eyes opened, but I finished pushing the hair away, so I could see him better.

Such an emerald green was not to be found in Nature- they were beyond anything she could create. They gleamed in the dim light, and when he blinked, my attention was drawn to his lashes. They were soot black as they rested against his cheek for that short, brief moment before rising to again reveal the eyes I cherished so much.

He looked puzzled as I watched him, before his eyes sharpened in understanding.

"Why do you always do this, Draco?" he asked me.

I just looked at him, memorizing his features.

"Why do you always think you're not good enough for me?" he asked again.

I didn't answer for a little while, too entranced by the shadows of the room floating over the contours of his face to think of any words to say. He was beautiful, perfect, everything I'm not… He sat up slowly and reached out to cup my chin in his hand.

"Draco," he said. "You are all I'll ever want. You are the only one I need. You are beautiful, you are perfect, and you are everything I'm not…" I shut him up with a kiss. He knows my list of the things I love about him, but there was no use in trying to repeat them back to me because he is the only one who fits that list. He knew what I was doing, but went along with it anyway. He knows that I could never accept the fact that he might hold me in the same light I hold him. He thinks it will just take time for me to realize it, but he'll never know that I can never measure up to what he think of me.

He is the best part of me, the part that allows me to function normally. If it was the same for him, I'll never know, but maybe someday, when we're older, maybe then I will realize that maybe he could hold me in the same high regard that I hold him.

But it won't happen tonight. This is still so new to me, loving freely and being freely loved in return.

He broke off the kiss to lay back down, gesturing me to come and lay in the shelter of his arms. I do so, watching him as he closes his eyes, hiding the brilliance of those emerald orbs. I watch him as he falls asleep, my head on his chest. I watch as he starts to breathe deeply. I watch as his head falls to the side, and his mouth opens slightly.

For the rest of the night, I watch the profile of a hero.

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A/N: Please review

Thanks,

Netrixie


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